* JILL BASSETT *

Jill Bassett, she was dancing mad,

And any lad

Who’ d win that most amazing maid

Must needs be a light-footed blade.

So said the folk; but I had pelf,

And when the elf

Found she might reign at Chadley Wood,

Though I weren’ t young, she thought it good.

She danced into my arms, and then,

Along of men

And some harsh words I’ d got to say,

One autumn time she danced away.

She vanished, like a bow on rain,

And, to be plain,

I didn’ t feel no mighty wrench

Nor much bewail the giglet wench.

Then came a bit of funny news

From Billy Bewes:

He’ d seen the wretch at Christmas time

Dancing in Plymouth pantomime!

For five good year no more was heard

Of the rash bird;

Then danced she back; but not to I:

Her mother took her in to die.

Her breathing parts was nearly gone,

Her dancing done.

She wilted, like a davered rose;

But I forgave her at the close.

With Bassett folk they dug her pit;

It wasn’ t fit

That she should lie where I shall go:

Her mother granted that was so.

Then, passing New Year’ s night, I saw

Upon the hoar

Of moony frost in churchyard ground

The woman dancing on her mound!

I’ ll take my oath afore my God

She swept the sod

With naked feet and showed her charms

And twirled about her twinkling arms.

A brace of owls that saw her too

Made their hulloo,

To which she danced so wondrous brave

Over the silver on her grave.

Mayhap the cold got in her bones

Under the stones,

And up the wilful ghostey came

To warm herself at her old game.

And I was on my hoss’ s back —

I’ d had my whack,

But only just the usual three,

And no man ever doubted me.